Persona
by feed me
Summary: -ON HOLD- Odaiba high is bombarded with six famous teenagers, one which is a very angsty Ichijouji Ken. How will the school survive these drama queens? Eventual ken and tai friendship and shounen ai pairings
1. prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I don't own the show. I don't even own my own freaking computer, what more do you want from me??

Persona 

Prologue

"So, tell us about yourself. What do you like doing in your free time?"

Free time? What's that? I'm never free. I'm always keeping up a front. I don't have free time if I want to maintain that. But they don't know that. They think they know me because they've seen me on TV, read about me in the newspapers. What a bunch of idiots. As if I'd honestly bare myself to the world like that. It's a great profit scheme for the media though, stick my name on anything and the money rushes in faster than water overflowing in a teacup. But I'm not going to tell them that, because then they'd think I wasn't happy with my popularity, that I wasn't happy with my success or with my money, or the fans or the adoration. Because I was never unhappy in front of the camera. That would just be bad work etiquette.    

You want to know something? I don't think I've ever been truly happy before. I've never done anything for myself, did something I enjoyed without thinking about how it could affect my reputation or my image in the eyes of my parents. Never let my guard down because that would mean letting down anyone who gave a damn about me. 

But I think I've dug myself into a hole. I seem to protect my true self, walled inside my mind with lies fabricated to please on the surface. Lies I sometimes can't remember are lies. I think I have forgotten to be me, if I wasn't just a tool in the first place. It wasn't so bad at first, just little half-truths about what I had been up to lately, how was school, how was work, when was the last time I went out, my favourite type of music, my favourite song. You know, things that don't mean anything by themselves, just words that are strung along in a pretty pattern to decorate a blank space with interest. But then I had to keep reusing them, I couldn't say something different, something _wrong_, something that didn't suit my persona. Had to build on them, make them believable until it become routine and reflex, until I had to remind myself that there were no truth behind my words, no feelings or emotions. Nothing real. But I have to wonder sometimes that maybe I was just a bunch of lies in the first place. 

If my brother were around some of the time, I'm sure he would've patted me on the head, told me I was silly, and to go do something productive and homework-like good-naturedly without turning away from his desk. Oh wait, he already is. Over the phone. Once a month, if I'm lucky, and that's only if he remembers he has a brother after my parents' coddling, because God forbid that they pass up even two minutes of their precious time with their favourite son to let him talk to _me_. Not that I ask any more. That's something I gave up doing right after throwing hope in the trash, along with naïveté, and trust in the goodwill of human beings.     

Honestly, I can't remember when the line between truth and lie blurred and spread. Now its just a big mass of confusion, swirling around inside my head to fill in the parts of me I can't feel anymore, the parts that I used to like about myself, and the ones that I hated. They faded into the background, but that was okay, because I could see myself as others saw me.

An object.

I found out that just by being me, I wasn't good enough to associate with. Oh sure, everyone wanted to see me, and read about me almost every day, but I wasn't _real_. I wasn't flesh and blood. I didn't feel things. My personal life was a drama everyone wanted to watch, wanted some action in, wanted to comment on and say "you know you should …", "I reckon that you could've…better…", "Why didn't you just…?" Like I would be enthralled at the idea that they could help me because they didn't know _me_ but they knew exactly how I could be improved just by listening to their advice. In the middle of the city. From inside an ice-cream truck. Selling me a double scoop of rocky road.

Does everyone assume that because I'm this famous person that I didn't need friendship? That I couldn't be wrong once in a while? That I was okay being alone and aloof and unable to express myself truly because there was no one willing to listen, to _believe_ something as small as that would be so important to someone like me? I hate being lonely, but I can't say that I am. Can't let on that I wasn't perfect, or was unhappy or depressed or lonely and screaming for company I couldn't have because it would be bad for business. Wouldn't cash in with the rest of the world.    

It is a consequence I brought on myself though, I suppose. I expected it to happen, was told it would, in this line of work. It's always action! Action! Action! Smile for the camera! Hair! Make Up! Pose! The twenty hours a day that I'm awake, and even in sleep the nightmares of obscure cameras and mangled film strips burned the inside of my eyelids.

Myself, making the me wrapped in fallacy is my most brilliant creation. It was someone that the people watching could totally believe was real. My greatest talent, they said, was making people believe in things that weren't real. That's why I was so good at being "me", because my innate ability to do so could be honed to make me bigger and better. Always better. Never good enough as I was, always had to push to be better. 

So yes, it was my job to pretend. To make the fake me flawless, I had to conform to their every wish of how I should be. That was why I was still smiling shyly at the middle-aged woman beside me, already coming up with a speech I was bound to be expected of, about how she would "affect" my career as my good/inspiring/derogative sweet mentor at the end of the year. Because she would expect me to be a shy person that she could bring out of their shell into her classroom. She must have battled heavily with the other homeroom teachers to have me in her care. I could almost see the dollar signs flashing through her mind every time her eyes met mine. How would she exploit this, I wonder? Will she be mainstream, selling her stories to the paper followed up by an autobiography titled "My Life Teaching Genius" or something gaudier before fading into the background with the rest of her kind? Or try for international stardom, aspiring for her own talk show before the age of 55? How about using her connections to me to become Japan's mafia mistress in the underworld? Or maybe all three at once?

My mind could come up with a lot of possibilities, most of which I had encountered before by people who were of the same kind, seeing me as a thing to be used for their own gains and milking it for all it was worth, for those five minutes of fame that could make them millions. I was screaming blue murder when the first person betrayed me, but by the three hundredth and ninety-second (or was it the ninety-first?) time it happened, I had long ago learnt the most valuable lesson of trust: Trust No One.                

But I still smile kindly at her, before bowing to the rest of the class to introduce myself, though many would not have needed an introduction to know who I was.

"Hello, I am Ichijouji Ken. I like to act in my free time."

A few quiet chuckles are met with my statement before greeting me.

"Good morning!"

"Hello Ken-kun!"

I smile sadly, though it was probably mistaken for a shy one, as I accept the fact that nothing will ever change for me.

"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu." 

Please take care of me, though I doubt you can even get that far.

-end prologue- 

Author notes: this was started long before "Hard to Say." Does anyone still remember that?? [sweatdrop] He he he… [run away]. I swear, I am really, really sorry! I am about one third through the next chapter for that [pathetic, isn't it?], so while my brain and my hands refuse to co-operate, please enjoy this [rather long, I suppose] distraction filler. 

Yoroshiku onegaishimasu = along the lines of "please take care of me/ thanks in advance for your kindness in welcoming me" or something like that…

Review if you think it's worth reviewing. Thanks for reading this far!

Feed Me.      


	2. chapter one

Notes: Nothing muchly exciting in this chapter. Mainly intros for some key players, if I ever get that far to expand on plot…

Mention of Empress of the Eclipse's band!

SHOUNEN-AI HINTS! HIT YOUR BACK BUTTON TO SAVE YOURSELF IMMENSE UNTOLERABLE -PAIN-!

Persona

Chapter One

(   |  _  |   )

"Oh…god…Ichijouji…did you know…?"

"…Cute…smart…he…"

"Whose class…lucky!…"

"…want his autograph…!"

It was freaky, you know? You walk into class Monday morning expecting to find the [somewhat] sane people that you've seen thousands of times before, being rational and outgoing and friendly, gushing about their weekend or maybe their dates or something, and then you find out that sometime between last Friday and early Monday, purple people eaters from outer space have taken over and turned your class into conspiring little bees plotting to overthrow their queen. Or something like that. Basically a lot of gossiping and gesturing, which is normal, but now with extravagant fashion accessories and three hundred dollar outfits lumped together with some _heavy_ makeup, which strangely enough, was not normal for these high school students. I mean, yeah, maybe the cheerleader faction would dress up for no apparent reason on some day of the week for the heck of it, but to find the Goths, the Smarties, the Quiet Ones, and _even the teachers too_?? On the same day?? I smell a conspiracy!

Pressing myself flat against the wall, I move swiftly to my seat in fear that the epidemic may be contagious, hoping stealth would help me escape this weird fantasy world I was experiencing. I slid into my seat next to the window, peering out of the corners of my eyes this way and that, ready to throw myself through the pane of glass at the first sign of pod people. Satisfied that there were no unexplainable green things that weren't there before [and I still maintain that that pot plant is EVIL!] I sighed in relief… and turned around to gape at the clone that was my class representative.    

"Oh my God Sora, you're a girl today!" 

My head experience a solid whack. I whimpered. [in fear! Not because I was hurt by some pussy hit!] 

"Hey!" I yelled, protecting my head with my hands. "That wasn't very nice!"

"Nice?! And what you called me was NICE?!" 

I swiveled my body to face her, and paled noticeable at the sight. In all my fifteen years of life, I, Yagami Taichi, had always thought that she was the one constant I could count on to assure me all was right with the world by just looking at her. She, Takenouchi Sora, would forever and always be, or so I had thought, a feminist tomboy. Wouldn't dream of doing anything remotely girly to her appearance, and it was always on one of her PMS days that you'd see her wearing non-pants. This does not mean that she doesn't have sexuality, of course. I'm sure at least three guys have been on the ground before her, prostrating themselves at her feet for a date, or a movie, or even a walk to the nearest insane asylum. She had innate charm, natural beauty she didn't feel she needed to improve on with expensive clothes, excessive jewelry and definitely, _definitely_ no make up beyond skin care. A natural beauty that stood up for the freedom for girls to feel pretty without using enhancements. 

That was why I was ready for the Apocalypse the second I saw Sora, _Sora_ in fashionable and stylish clothes _and_ the obvious hints that they were ridiculously expensive. Worth more than the people sewing them together spent making them twice over, I'm sure. From a guy's point of view, if I had never met her before, I wouldn't have thought anything was wrong. She was dressed up in a retro sixties halter top ending above her navel, covered with the words "nobody's pussy" printed over and over with a cat's claws "ripping" it on the side. On her bottom half was a denim skirt that slanted at the bottom, ended well above her knees and flared when she turned her body, with a lighter material layered underneath, rippling and slightly longer in some places then the darker material on top. A white tassel belt criss crossed with a cream tassel belt of the same design, the tassels reaching lower then the skirt. To top it off, she wore a black Dolce & Gabbana golf hat, slanted to the side almost covering her right eye at the front, leaving red tinted spiky curls to fall onto her shoulders and before her ears. 

On anyone else, this wasn't a call for distress. But this was _Sora_! Scruffy tennis shoes, trakkie dakkies, polo shirt wearing Sora! Who would never ever consider wearing _anything_ that short or stilettos that tall, pointy, and obviously damn uncomfortable. "Stupid, why would I kill my feet to make my them look pretty? No one's going to look at my shoes!" I heard right, didn't I? I heard her say that, I know I did! What changed? What is going on????? 

"Oh God, Sora? What's happening? Did someone die? Did your mom dress you up today? Did your _dad_ dress you up today? Who told you to wear that?" I pleaded to gods I never talked to before that this was the work of someone else. 

"Oi Baka-chi! It's not that bad! Is it?" Her eyes glanced at her outfit worriedly as she ran a hand down her front. A sign of insecurity. A sign of insecurity from the single most confident girl I had ever known about her _looks_. A girl who, on my second soccer camp, had barged into my cabin with muddy shorts and an ugly yellow t-shirt three sizes too big, complimented by juice stains and grassy marks at five o'clock in the morning to demand that I and the rest of us poor souls in the cabin who liked to sleep in to sign up for mess hall duty because she couldn't be bothered to do it herself. This from the girl who last year stood up in front of the entire student population in a crumpled school dress and blackened white tennis shoes to talk about why all men were scum brought down by self esteem and that girls should be the ones who demanded the sex in the relationship, wrestling the mike away from vice-principle Kaishi and screaming down the hall about student rights as she was manhandled off stage. The funniest thing I had seen in a long time, especially when it took the nearly the whole senior karate team to do it.     

"Oh Sora, please tell me you're not turning conceited." I was worried that the hat had consumed her sanity. It had at least succeeded in consuming half of her head at this angle anyway. 

Another whap to my poor abused skull.

"It's not like that 'Chi! I just wanted to make a good impression today." She fiddled with one of her many tassels. 

"On who? Hokunhan-chan? Because no offense Sora, I don't think she swings that way." Our homeroom teacher, Hokuhara-sensei was big on appearances I guess, and impressing her in anything was hard. Not that that deterred any of the male [and by the look of things, female] population trying to get into her panties. But still, I had no idea Sora liked sensei! Sure, sensei was quite young, and pretty popular with everyone, being new and yet to become fed up with our insolence and cynicism. Not bad on the eyes, if you like the scholarly beauty type I suppose. Sora probably likes her because of the strong feminist view they both share, maybe?

"What?! NO! Oh ew, 'Chi." She shuddered, her dangling silver plated square earrings glinting from the light filtering through the window. Wait a second, what was that glittering…?

"Oh Sora. You've crossed over to the Dark Side." I said solemnly. "You conformed." I shake my head piteously. 

"What? What are you talking about?"

I demonstrated with my thumb, running it in a line across my closed eyelid. "It's sparkly." 

"Oh damn, it hasn't rubbed off anywhere else has it?" She leaned in close so I could inspect [not that I wanted to. If anything, I want out of this universe.] for more sparkles. From that far away, I could smell the faint scent of some flowery perfume [or it could be a natural scent I suppose. After all, her parents own a flower shop.] She really put on the works today didn't she? 

"You look fine Sora." I said deadpanned. This was seriously freaking me out. "Ok, enough with the fashion blues, what the hell is going on?" 

"You mean you don't know?" She looked at me bewildered.

"Taichi-kun doesn't know what?" Our fair-haired friend, Wallace, and by his side the ever fashionable Tachikawa Mimi stood in front of my desk [today, her hair was bleach streaked!] When had they gotten here? I doubled back in surprise, as I got a better look at Wallace. Or should I say, what Wallace was in. WU-TANG? What the?! 

"Is there some sort of festival or something? Why are you all so dressed up today?" I felt my eyebrows scrunch together, and edged my seat a little further away from these aliens I had called friends. I was feeling very confused.

"Didn't you know Chi-chan? The Wolves and Ichijouji Ken transferred to our school! Today's their first day! That's not all though…" Mimi, flipping her wavy long hair over her shoulder with perfectly French manicured nails smiled gently at me. I almost sighed in relief. Mimi hadn't been taken over by body-snatchers from out of space. Even though that's where her mind was thought to reside most of the time… Well, at least she didn't look like a completely different person. But then again, Mimi always looks like she just walked out of a fashion magazine. Twirling her hair in a continuous loop around her index finger for a while, looking at nothing with a smile on her face and a dreamy clouded look in her eye, she almost made me believe she was thinking of nothing at all. True, she's a little air-headed, a bit oblivious to the world outside her own, but she always looked at you like you were hiding something and she knew where you had put it. It was a very good look to have when guilt-tripping people. Mimi was undeniably Odaiba's finest when it came to blackmail, excuse me, _personal_ information. When she came down from the clouds that is.   

Wallace, Sora, and I all shared a raised eyebrow, and waited for Mimi to continue. We waited for a long time. 

"One of them are going to be in our class! Maybe even two! It's so exciting, don't you think?" Her bright voice chattered with a lilt, talking from where she left off even though the grounds keeper had crossed from one side of the oval to the other when from when she had finished her last sentence. He had stopped quite a few times to scoop up all the shit off the ground too.

I still didn't know what I was supposed to be excited about though. I felt a pout coming on to my confused face. 

"And I should care because…?"

Mimi looked confused herself. "Don't you know who they are?" she tilted her head, and thought about it for a while, looking as though she was bursting her brain doing so. We would have made a jibe about it if it had been anybody else, but although I can't say for the others, I liked living with my secrets _secret_ and my dignity intact. They must have shared the same sentiment, because I could see them fighting for control over their tongues. The moment passed, and we waited for her to continue. I leaned forward on my desk, gripping the rough edges impatiently. I had a feeling whatever she was going to say would change my life forever. She smiled as her eyes brightened.

"Forgot!" 

I would've fallen down if I hadn't been sitting in a chair. She gave me a pat on the head. "Don't worry, you'll get to know them!" 

I batted her hand away. What was I, a puppy?

Mimi squealed loudly, jumping excitedly in front of Sora, pulling at her belts. "Oh my god Sora, you look sooooooooo cute! That outfit is absolutely gorgeous!"

"You think? But my hair didn't come out how I wanted it too…"

"No way, I think you look great! Hey maybe you should…"

It was ten minutes from that point that I decided if I had to hear about what colour shoes make you look fat ["Black _is_ slimming!"] from girls ever again, I would pour puss green paint over their entire wardrobe. And I still don't understand how making yourself paler makes you more alluring or whatever. But what do I know? By the look of things it seems, absolutely nothing.

I wheeled around to see Wallace grinning at me in the most un-Wallace outfit I had ever seen him wear. I didn't even think Wallace knew what brand names were! 

"Ok you, explain. Where are my friends, and why have you aliens decided to replace them with such obviously fake impersonators?" I poked his silver-clad stomach, surprised at the silkiness of the fabric I had touched. 

"Hey man, if anything, we're all still wondering how we could've ended up with someone like you in here, but we phoned all of the orphanages in Tokyo and they're not willing to accept children over 15. We even offered to pay them too." He sighed. "Damn."

I laughed, though a warning siren sounded in my head screaming {'DANGER! DANGER! He KNOWS!'} in one of those annoying electronic voices. You know the ones right? But I ignored it. No one knows about it except me, and maybe Mimi could suspect something, but it was highly unlikely. As far as she knows, she already _knows_ all my secrets. I was just a _teeny_ bit paranoid though. Could you tell?

"No seriously, what's going on? Who are those people? Why is everyone out of whack today?" I detected a slight shake in my voice. Wallace didn't blink. 

"So you noticed huh?" he looked at me amused. I unnoticeably crumpled in relief. I was right. He didn't know. Crisis over! 

"Hey! I may be dense, but I'm not _blind_! Do you know how freaked out I was when I saw Mahashita-sensei in a _miniskirt_ today? She's like sixty-five!" My face reeled in horror as the image of baggy skin came to my mind again. 

Wallace snickered.

"Dude, it's not funny! I'm scarred for life here!" I banged on the desk indignantly, and hmphed.

His mirth died down, but did not completely disappear. "Seriously, do you live in a hole or something? How can you not know who Ichijouji Ken and the Wolves are?" 

I shrugged. "Why should I know about them? What, are they famous or something?" 

Wallace clicked his fingers. "Bingo! Ichijouji is Japan's number one teenage idol. He's a genius _and_ he's an actor. He plays Yuuta in Hexed on Saturdays on Channel 65, he's been in tons of commercials _and_ he's in the news and magazines all the time! He's taking over the acting scene, he tops _all_ of his classes, AND he's this century's version of the perfect gentleman! He gets five hundred letters a day from mothers begging him to marry their daughters! And then some to marry their sons! How can you _not_ have heard of him?" 

"How would I know? I don't watch Channel 65!" I grumbled. Stupid thing axed all my favourite shows, so I decided not to set myself up for anymore disappointment. How? How could they cut off my lovely soccer season? Damn you Channel 65! Damn you to hell! "Well, if he's an idol, and he's a genius, what the hell is he doing coming to this hell-hole?" 

"I don't know." He shrugged, barely noticeable through the heavy jacket. "Maybe he lives around here or something?"

I frowned. "That doesn't make sense though. Why isn't he like, in a private smart arse school then? Or privately tutored? I mean, this is a public school. There's isn't anything special or particularly academic about it."

"Do you think the teachers care though? They're probably dancing the conga in the staff room. He's going to bring the whole of our year 12 exam level up!" He paused. "Well, if we don't dumb him down by then that is."   

I smirked. "True." 

Satisfied I had found out the reason everyone had gone hay-wire, I leaned back and propped my feet on the desk. First thing Monday morning and the damned thing had already gotten skid marks all over it. He he…oops. But then I stopped. Although I found out the reason for the conspiratorial mumbles, this still left the most disturbing feature of my hardly begun morning. 

"So why the hell is everybody all dressed up?!" 

"Uh…welllllllllllllllllllll…" Wallace grinned sheepishly, tugging at the two silver zips holding his jacket front together. "Since we have not only Ichijouji Ken but also the _Wolves_" His blue eyes widened as he breathlessly said the word, reverence evident in his face. "coming here, Mimi sent a memo telling everyone to look glamorous."

"….o…k…" Now I get it. When Mimi tells you to do something, you do it, or risk horrible horrible death by unmentionable means. And its not the friendly unmentionables either. Unless you were friends with her, in which case I was, and was considering to build a shrine to Sora for introducing me and Mimi. She wouldn't do something too bad to me. 

Right.

I swallowed, gesturing for him to keep going. Wallace heaved a long suffering sigh and placed a hand on my shoulder. I sense that he is insulting me somehow.

"Taichi. We have not one, but _six_ well known celebrities attending our school. Now usually, the media hounds celebrities. Which means they bring cameras. And video recorders. That means _live feed_. You know? Photos. Publicity."

I blinked. Words were coming out of Wallace's mouth, but none of them were connecting together.

"Oh, for god's sake— Taichi! We are going to be _ON TV_!!!!!" He screamed excitedly, and then everyone around us started going off. 

"Yeah!! Dude, we're gonna be on TV! Woo hoo!" Mimi and Sora started getting into the vibe and danced around the room, collecting ecstatically screaming girls on their way.   

After that outburst, Wallace seemed to burst. His voice got louder and higher, as though he was starting to inhale helium. "Not only are there gonna be cameras, chances are their agents are going to hang around, and there's always going to be important people who are going to come here and scope them out, offer them deals and, most importantly, they're going to have a lot of money! Do you know what this means Tai?!" By this time, he had grabbed my hands and hauled me onto my feet, swaying to and fro with stars in his eyes.

"Um…you're going to…find a sugar daddy…?"

"We could get _famous_! Tai, we could become singers, models, actors! Tai, this is going to be our big break!" Seeming to go over what I had said, he whacked me on the head. My head was getting so much abuse this morning! What, did I have "smack here" shaved onto my head or something?

"Shut up, Baka-Chi. I did not want a sugar daddy."

I smirked. "So you broke up with the businessman, I take it?"

"Asshole was _married. _Hell, how come I never saw it?" He hissed, eyes narrowed and fists clenching.

"Well, the wedding ring _was_ pretty small. And he had big hands too!"

Wallace snickered, but it didn't sound as evil as it usually did. Love made you blind to lots of things I guess. Or maybe Wallace forgot his contacts that day.                         

"I'm sorry Will." I laid my hands on top of his, knowing even though he was angry now, somewhere inside he still felt the hurt of losing someone he had loved. I'm no relationship guru, but I could still tell Wallace had been serious, even if only slighter more than any of his previous ex-es. I wonder what it is about forbidden fruit that makes it so enticing? Why did he start a relationship that was doomed to fail, even if his ex wasn't married? Was it like how junk food was addictive, and bad for you, but so much yummier than the veggies that your parents tried to force-feed you? 

These thoughts reminded me that I hadn't eaten breakfast this morning.

"Yeah well, it's ok. As far as I'm concerned, it never happened. Besides, this leaves me free and single for the rich and famous." He winked, settling himself down on the desk beside me. I decided not to press the issue. For now, anyway. Ok, time to change the subject!

"Hmmm…so what are the wolves? Are they Ken's pets?"    

His face froze. He would not meet my eyes, pursing his lips together in intense concentration. Slowly, his hands traveled towards his face, bending his body over until I could not see his face without sitting up straight. Which would have required effort, so I passed. Doubled over, his shoulders shuddered noticeably at my eye-level. Sweat beads formed on my forehead. I didn't say anything that would've made him cry did I? 

Suspicious noises like laughter were emitting from his general area. Hmm. 

"I believe that it is a 'who' and not a 'what' Tai-chan."  A spiky red-headed boy plopped down on the other side of me, shifting his texts onto the dull gray desk and started thumbing through them. His coal black eyes moving quickly from side to side, reading whatever theory had caught his fancy in the last thirty-six hours or so. 

"Whatcha talking about Kou-chan?" I reversed myself, sitting with my face resting on my arms on the back of the hard plastic chair. Koushirou looked tired, as per usual, but I knew that body had high caffeine whatever time of day it was. He probably stayed up all night to enjoy the last of glorious weekend freedom. I slept in, so I was enjoying it this morning too.

"The Wolves are people. Specifically, they are five people. They're a band. That ring any bells?"

I blinked at him. He blinked back. 

"Er…no?"

 It was now Koushirou's turn to look at me like I was a circus act locked in a cage. Geez, you stop listening to the news for a few months and all of a sudden you're brain-dead. It's not that important is it? I mean, it changes every single day! 

Meanwhile, Wallace saw fit to _finally_ stop laughing. "Oh man, if _Kou_ of all people know who they are—"

"Hey!" Koushirou glared at him. Wallace ignored the look.

"Don't you go out anymore? They play live pretty much everywhere." His eyes glistened in their blue swirly kind of way. "I can take you." Uh oh. Sensing fanaticism… 

But still, it would be nice to get out soon. With all the stuff that has been happening lately, I felt like having a little fun. But on the other hand…

I shook my head at Wallace. "Pain in the ass. Stuff it."

I just wouldn't be able to make it work. Family edginess, work, the pile of homework looking remarkably like the leaning tower of Pisa with little people and windows and everything; that just always seem to lean out _that_ much, taking over my desk that was collecting dust because god knows how long it's been since I've actually tried to do any of it. Or understand any of it if I tried. 

If Mimi doesn't kill me first, I think I'll die from brain implosion.

Surfacing from my depressive thoughts [bad Taichi! No depression! Bad!] a second later, I smiled cheerfully at Koushirou who was giving me a worried look. I hate it when he looks at me like that.

"Hmm, so Kou-chan _does_ know something beyond the monitor of your laptop! I knew you had to be a closet rock fan." He he, wiped that look right off his face!

"Taichi, contrary to popular belief, I do actually have a social life. One that you are part of I might add." He crossed his legs, looking quite a bit put out. And looking sane too [how misleading!]. Although he had dressed up some, he did not look like he had turned into a model wannabe. He only looked as close to one as he could possibly get with the least amount of effort. I didn't know whether to laugh because even with his best effort trying to dress up he still looked like plain old Kou-chan, or cry because he actually tried. Judging by the state of his hair, he had tried very hard indeed.

I wonder why they all tried to look like something they're not. They're all decent people, but if even _Kou-chan_ tried to make himself stand out today, I had a feeling that things were not going to get any better in the near future. God, I hope this whole thing blows over soon.

"PEOPLE! WE GOT YAMATO AND AKEMI!" Reiko, self-proclaimed leader of the cheerleader faction, almost slammed the door down, screeching and panting at the same time, exerted from what looked like a long run. Or maybe it was just her heels. I had given up on getting any information about these names before I had begun, seeing it as a lost cause and not particularly caring at that. She jumped into the fray of girls where Sora and Mimi ended up [Mimi being the _actual_ leader of the cheerleader faction] and they all decided to scream the school down, hugging and jumping around _some more_, praising their unbelievable luck. This set off a chain reaction, as the whole class started cheering and adding to the noise pollution. I tell you, the amount of shrieking going on…

The amount of noise actually raised to new heights as Hokuhara-sensei came into class, waving around her roll-book and getting people to sit down. She was in her Sunday best by the look of it, although you can't get any classier than her on any other day of the week either. Today being Monday, I wondered if she had worn that outfit two days in a row, or just slept in it and came to school all made up from the day before. It was no hidden fact that Kou-chan and Hokunhan-chan had the most caffeinated diets this side of Japan had ever seen. People actually took bets on who drank the most coffee in a day every day of the week, the kitty ranging from the low hundreds upwards. More often than not, Hokunhan-chan won because they didn't count Kou-chan's chocolate covered coffee beans as coffee. They have yet to figure out that there is money being made out of them, in which case if they did they would most certainly have anted up and drank even more coffee than they do now, which was more than humanly possible for normal people anyway. It's a mystery of the universe that they can even sleep at night. For them, there really was too much blood in their caffeine system.     

She looked on with a peaceful smile on her face, the one promising death if anyone stepped a tiptoe out of line. Quieting reluctantly, everyone faced forward to begin the morning ritual. Stand, bow, good morning sensei, sit, silence again. Underlying tension filled the atmosphere, the excitement levels were sure to have been shown as 10.5 if they could've been measured on a Richter scale. It sure felt like it from how my desk kept rocking back and forth from the vibration of students squirming in their seats. Waiting for Hokunhan-chan to move through the necessary announcements and bulletins, I could see everyone around me thinking 'Come on, come on, move it along, come on!' I began to space out, wondering if I should scab something off of the canteen on my way to first period. My eyes glassed over at the prospect of food. I licked my lips. 

Noise erupted from all around, pulling me out of my nice daydream about bagels and French toast. Walking through the door was two guys, one blonde and one black-haired, oozing charisma and charm like I had never seen. And that should say something coming from me. Girls went crazy, and guys were clapping and whistling. By the end of today, I was sure my ears would not survive. Sensei scraped her elegant fingernails along the grey metal of a nearby desk. A warning sign that if we didn't shut it she would make our lives as much as an unpleasant experience as the school board would allow. This meant latrine duty, and that shut them up again, but they were literally bouncing in their seats, leaning as close as they dared towards the newcomers that had made my school life unexpectedly interesting. 

Hokunhan-chan smiled wryly and made a sweeping gesture. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Ishida Yamato and Nakatsuru Akemi."

The crowd roared with applause. 

They both laughed, and bowed deeply, and were awarded with even more raucous applause. God, weren't their hands tired yet? The blonde [Akemi? Yamato?] swept his gaze around the room, sweeping elegant fingers through fine hair, smiling in a way only celebrities knew how. This got a mixed reaction, a few who fainted with happy smiles painted on their faces, a few who wolf-whistled like the world would collapse into itself if they didn't, a lot of sighing, a lot of fluttering eyelids. And I thought this morning was bad. 

It was at this moment when I realized, this was really going to create a lot more trouble then it was worth.

Crap. As if I didn't have enough problems.

-end chapter one- 

Yet more deep thoughts from my stomach: 

Forgot to say before [what was I thinking? Bad me!] a big T H A N K  Y O U to my lovely, lovely reviewers from Hard to Say. I feel properly proud and evil for making Taichi a somewhat mute person, and take pleasure from frantic reviews about his condition. BUT THANK YOU ALL FOR READING IT [hugs *S2*]

Anyway…

Yeah, so it's pretty inconceivable that Taichi wouldn't know these people when everyone else does [but things like this CAN happen!] but I do have an idea in mind for why he wouldn't… 

Do you think I should continue this? Should I go back to HTS? Should I give up writing for good? Needing opinions…

And for that matter, need story ideas too…

Thanks for taking time to read. Review to tell me how shameful I am.

Feed Me.        


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